From Bitches to Witches
by CSM Byakko L
Summary: Four girls cross dimensions into the Harry Potter world, where one of them goes on a walk, runs into Harry Potter in the park, finds out she's a wizard, accidentally steals Harry's wand, finds out her friends are wizards, and soon after receives letters of acceptance from Hogwarts. Now, what could possibly go wrong? I just jinxed it, didn't I? {TAKES PLACE IN FIFTH BOOK/MOVIE}
1. Scrawny Four-Eyes Scruffles and Biggie-D

I rubbed my gloved hands together as I took a deep breathe, and let it out. It was freezing out here! I had gotten bored, and decided to take a walk—alone. (despite the fact the some of my friends are currently sleeping over at my house). Now I had somehow ended up in a park. I didn't even know a park like this existed! Where the hell _am_ I?!

Okay, calm down. I should probably be getting home soon. Let's see: it's dark, I'm cold, I could've sworn I just heard someone screaming, I stepped in a puddle a few minutes ago so now my pitch black platform sneakers are _wet,_ I keep sneezing, I'm _cold_, and for some unknown damn reason—I'm carrying a _gun!_

Okay. I _really _need to think things through before I decide to go on a walk in the middle of the night.

Now that I think about it, I actually look pretty suspicious…

I really just threw some clothes on—all black because for some reason I was feeling ninja-y and wanted to blend in with the night—black sweatshirt (hood up), black cargo jeans, _entirely_ black platform sneakers, black shirt that reads "I gots mad ninja skills…and stuffs" with a pink ninja on it—no fear, my sweatshirt is zipped up so it goes unseen and my ninja cover is not blown—plus a black face mask that covers my mouth and nose.

Yeah. I definitely look suspicious.

I probably look like I'm about to mug somebody. I guess that explains why every time I saw someone, they looked so freaked out and kept avoiding me and running away.

Huh.

I probably should have noticed that sooner.

Anyway… Anyway I don't even know! I guess I'll just start heading ba—wait a minute.

_Okay_… This is a bit awkward. Now, how the hell did I get in here, when this park has a locked gate! I most certainly don't remember jumping a fence or picking a lock on my way here. This is getting weird. Not any weirder than when I woke up dressed up like Harry Potter while hanging upside down in my basement from a rope tied to one of the little bridges I had put in so I could climb the monkey bars in my own house—but weird none the less.

Rubbing my hands together again, I continued walking deeper into the park. I'm here now, so why not explore!

Walking further in, I noticed I wasn't the only person here. Sitting on a park swing—the only one working, apparently—was this skinny, black-haired, bespectacled boy who had the pinched, slightly unhealthy look of someone who has grown a lot in a short period of time. His jeans were torn and dirty, his T-shirt baggy and faded, and the soles of his trainers were peeling away from the uppers.

He seemed frustrated. Maybe I should go talk to him… Nah, he probably wants his peace.

Now that I pay attention, it's actually pretty quiet around here—the only noise being the low grumble of traffic just beyond the park railings.

Okay, scratch that. That's not the only noise. Why? Because now I can hear a bunch of annoying, irritating voices coming closer. The boy, it seemed, had noticed, too.

One of them was singing a loud, annoying song, while the others were laughing. Oh, and they had a bunch of expensive racing bikes. That deserve to be stolen. Maybe I should steal them… Oh, and it seems the four-eyes recognizes them, judging from his concealed sneer.

Oh, and—_damn_—that guy in front, I'm guessing their leader—man—he's overweight. Er, seems glasses boy doesn't like him. And, now that I'm paying attention, it almost seems that the scrawny glasses boy _wants _them to see him. Is he suicidal? Does he _want_ them to kill him? Geez.

And, oh look, they don't notice him. I don't know whether to feel bad, or be happy for the boy. It wasn't long before they were gone, their voices fading along some road—Magnolia Road—what kind of name for a road is that?

Suddenly the boy got up and stretched, a scowl clear on his face, and off after them. Oh, hell no! I may have just met him—well, technically I didn't exactly _meet_ him, but _still_—but I'm not letting him get himself killed, _hell_ no!

I took a deep breath, rubbed my hands together some more, and set after him. I followed him over the fence and onto that weird road—still no idea where I am—and quickly down the road, until the other gang was in sight again (damn, he walked fast for such a scrawny kid—er, teen). They were saying their goodbye as the glasses boy hid behind a large lilac tree, and just stayed there.

What, was he spying on them? The stalker… And to believe I thought he seemed nice. Hmpth. Oh, hell, I can hear them—what they're saying!

"…squealed like a pig, didn't he?" one was saying, to guffaws from the others.

"Nice right hook, Big D," said, er, I'll just call him Mr. P. The one who said someone squealed like pig—I'll call him Mr. M. Why? I don't know.

"Same time tomorrow?" said Mr. D.

"Round at my place, my parents will be out," said Mr. G.

"See you then," said Mr. D.

"Bye, Dud!"

"See ya, Big D!"

Huh. He's not doing an—wait. He's going over. While most of them left, there's still one more, dammit! That idiot! I'll kill him!

"Hey, Big D!" he said.

Fatso, now dubbed 'Big D', turned.

"Oh," he grunted. "It's you."

"How long have you been "Big D" then?" said four-eyes.

"Shut it," snarled Biggie-D, turning away.

"Cool name," said the glasses boy, grinning and falling into step beside is fatso. "But you'll always be "Ickle Diddykins" to me."

_Okay_… A little creeped out now… Wait a minute, why isn't he currently being pummeled to death?  
Oh, wait, I just noticed something! He's British! He's _fucking _British! Wait. Does that mean I'm in the god-damn _UK?!_ Holy _shit_! How the hell did that happen?! And, ha-ha, "Ickle Diddykins"! Ha!

"I said, SHUT IT!" said fatso, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists. Damn, I'm surprised he didn't kill skinny boy, yet.

"Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?" Okay... So how does _scrawny-boy_ know that, then?

"Shut your face." Yeah. He's pissed.

"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about "Popkin" and "Dinky Diddydums", can I use them then?" Ha. Poor sucker's gunna get his ass kicked. I know it. But why hasn't he yet? Scrawny four-eyes seems pretty…_scrawny_ to me.

Biggie-D said nothing. He seemed to straining himself from hitting scrawny four-eyes, that action demanding all his self-control.

"So who've you been beating up tonight?" Four-eyes asked, his grin fading. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago—"

"He was asking for it," snarled Fatty.

"Oh yeah?"

"He cheeked me."

"Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? 'Cause that's not cheek, Dud, that's true..."

Yeah. He should learn to shut up. (That doesn't mean he's not hilarious…)

They turned into a darker street, darker than the others as it had no streetlamps.

"Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?' Dudley said after a few seconds. What thing?

"What thing?" Hah, jinx.

"That-that thing you are hiding." Yeah. I'm _so_ suspicious right no—wait. Maybe he's got a gun? Yeah, now that would make sense. That would explain everything—well, except the knowing what his mom calls him and the fact fatty knew he had it parts.

Scrawny grinned again. "Not as stupid as you look, are you, Dud? But I s'pose, if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time..." Ha! I'm having serious trouble suppressing my laughter right now… Why am I still following them, anyway? God, I'm so confused right now…

Scrawny pulled a stick. Okay. Not a gun. Still confused. Damn it, what the hell is going on?!

Biggie-D looked sideways at it. "You're not allowed," D.D. said at once. "I know you're not. You'd get expelled from that freak school you go to."

You know what? I don't even—I won't even say anything. That's it. I give up.

"How d'you know they haven't changed the rules, Big D?"

"They haven't," said D. He didn't sound convinced.

Scrawny laughed.

"You haven't got the guts to take me on without that thing, have you?" D.D. snarled.

THE FUCK IS UP WITH THAT STICK?!

"Whereas you just need four mates behind you before you can beat up a ten year old. You know that boxing title you keep banging on about? How old was your opponent? Seven? Eight?"

"He was sixteen, for your information," snarled Dudley, "and he was out cold for twenty minutes after I'd finished with him and he was twice as heavy as you. You just wait till I tell Dad you had that thing out—"

"Running to Daddy now, are you? Is his ickle boxing champ frightened of nasty Harry's wand?"

_Wand_?

"Not this brave at night, are you?" sneered D.D.

"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."

"I mean when you're in bed!" Diddy snarled.

He had stopped walking. Scrawny stopped too, staring at his Dids.

From the little I could see of Diddy's large face, he was wearing a strangely triumphant look.

"What d'you mean, I'm not brave when I'm in bed?" said Harry, Completely nonplussed. "What—am I supposed to be frightened of, pillows or something?"

"I heard you last night," said D breathlessly. "Talking in your sleep. Moaning."

Okay… A little inappropriate.

"What d'you mean?" asked the newly dubbed Scruffy.

Ds gave a harsh bark of laughter, then adopted a high-pitched whimpering voice.

""Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!" Who's Cedric—your boyfriend?'

Didn't need those images in my head—no, I did not.

"I—you're lying." Ouch. He got him.

""Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo hoo!"" Scruffs is gunna kill him. Scruffs is _so_ gunna kill him.

"Shut up," said Scruffy quietly. "Shut up, Dudley, I'm warning you!" Oh. So his name is Dudley. Poor guy.

""Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to—" Don't you point that thing at me!"

A stick. He's pointing a stick. Oh—my apologies—a _wand. _Yup. I just landed myself in looney-vill.

Duds was backed into an alley wall as Scruffles pointed his stick—er, wand—at Dudley's heart.

"Don't ever talk about that again," Harry snarled. "D'you understand me?"

"Point that thing somewhere else!"

"I said, do you understand me?"

"Point it somewhere else!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM—"

Dudley gave an odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water.

Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch black and lightless—the stars, the moon, the misty streetlamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant rumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them.

_Cree-py…_

Wait a minute. Damn it, I can't see!

Dudley's terrified voice broke in my ear.

"W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I—"

"I said shut up!"

I stood stock still, turning my sightless eyes left and right. The cold was so intense I was shivering all over; goose bumps had erupted up my arms and the hairs on the back of my neck were standing up—I opened my eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing.

What's that noise…?

"I'll t-tell Dad!" Dudley whimpered. "W-where are you? What are you d-do—?"

"Will you shut up?" Four-eyes hissed, "I'm trying to lis—"

But he fell silent just as I heard this sound, like something drawing long, hoarse, rattling breaths.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley, shut—"

WHAM!

I heard a fist make contact with somebody's head. I think I can guess who… -_-'

"You moron, Dudley!" he screamed.

I heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!" At what?

There was a horrible squealing yell and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, I felt a creeping chill behind me.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" He muttered frantically. "Where's—wand—come on—Lumos!"

Holy, _shit_!

Suddenly the alley was lit up, and I watched as Scrawny grabbed the magical stick, scrambled to his feet, and turned around, my eyes following his.

My stomach turned over.

A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes, sucking on the night as it came.

FUCK.

Doomed—_so _doomed.

Stumbling backwards, Scruffles raised his stick.

"Expecto patronum!" Wait, _what?_

A silvery wisp of vapor shot from the tip of the stick—er, wand—and the, _thing_ slowed, but whatever he did I'm guessing hadn't worked properly; tripping over his own feet, Scruffy retreated further as the _thing_ bore down upon him.

A pair of grey, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the things robes, reaching for Scruffs. A rushing noise filled my ears.

"Expecto patronum!" Again?

His voice sounded dim and distant... Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand—hey, look, I got it—but I'm guessing from the look in his eyes—that's not was supposed to happen.

Damn it, what's going on?!

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Scruff's wand; it's antlers caught the monster in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backwards, weightless as darkness, and as the stag charged, the thing swooped away, bat-like and defeated.

Hooray! Big, mean, scary thing is gone!

"THIS WAY!" Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!"

Oh, _now_ he cares about him. I'm so confused…

We had run barely a dozen steps when we reached them: Dudley was curled up on the ground, his arms clamped over his face. A second monster-thing was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prising them slowly, almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head towards Dudley's face as though about to kiss him...

Aw… monster love…

"GET IT!" Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag came galloping past him.

Sooooo confused…

The thing's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared away and was absorbed into the darkness; the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist.

I won't even…

Moon, stars and streetlamps burst back into life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars filled the air again.

…I give up. Really, I do.

Scruffs and I stood quite still. After a moment, it became aware that his T-shirt was sticking to him; he was drenched in sweat.

_Why_?

Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Scruffs bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then we heard loud, running footsteps. He raised his wand again, and span on his heel to face the newcomer, while I merely turned my head and readied my gun. (I probably should have used it against that monster-thingy—but—oh, well.)

A batty old lady came panting into sight. Her grizzled grey hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Scruffs made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, and me my gun, but—

"Don't put it away, idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm going to kill Mundungus Fletcher!"

"What?" said Scruffs blankly.

"He left!" said the old lady, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbles on the case! But we haven't got time to stand around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"

"But—"

The revelation that that batty old lady neighbor knew what those things—dementors—were was almost as big a shock to me as meeting two of them down the alleyway.

"You're—you're a witch?"

Wait… _WHAT?!_

"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off dementors? He left you completely without cover when I'd warned him—"

"This Mundungus has been following me? Hang on—it was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!"

"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr. Tibbles under a car just in case, and Mr Tibbles came and warned me, but by the time I got to your house you'd gone—and now—oh, what's Dumbledore going to say? You!" she shrieked at Dudley, still supine on the alley floor. "Get your fat bottom off the ground, quick!"

"You know Dumbledore?" said Scruffs, staring at her.

"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on- I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as Transfigured a teabag."

She stooped down, seized one of Dudley's massive arms in her wizened hands and tugged.

"Get up, you useless lump, get up!"

I am _soooo_ cunfuzzled…


	2. Enough--effing--owls

While they were busying their hands with Dudley, I took my chance to get away. Stuffing my gun in the pocket on my left thigh, by my knee, I took off. I am well aware that I didn't exactly do it _quietly_, but, hey, I was in a rush! I was supposed to get home an hour ago and now I get wrapped up in all—all—all _this!_ What do you expect?

**Switch PoV**

Dudley either could not or would not move. He remained on the ground, trembling and ashen-faced, his mouth shut very tight.

"I'll do it." Harry took hold of Dudley's arm and heaved. With an enormous effort he managed to hoist him to his feet. Dudley seemed to be on the point of fainting. His small eyes were rolling in their sockets and sweat was beading his face; the moment Harry let go of him he swayed dangerously.

"Hurry up!" said Mrs. Figg hysterically.

Harry pulled one of Dudley's massive arms around his own shoulders and dragged him towards the road, sagging slightly under the weight. Mrs. Figg tottered along in front of them, peering anxiously around the corner.

Suddenly he heard a noise behind him, and turned just in time to see a figure running away. Harry cursed. Someone else must've seen them! How long were they there for? Did they see dementors? Did they see Harry perform magic? This was not good.

"What was that?" asked Mrs. Figg.

"I—someone was there. I saw them run away."

"Oh, this is not good!" she said. "A muggle saw us—and we didn't even get to see their face! How long ago, Harry, how long ago did you see them?"

"A few seconds—"

"Good! Go after them! I'll watch the boy! Just be quick!"

"Alright," he said uncertainly.

**Switch PoV**

I sighed. I'm far enough away to stop running. And so I did. Shuffling my feet, I decided to try my luck retracing my steps. It was darker out now, so it was a little harder than I expected. I had reached the park when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Wait up!"

Who's that—oh. Damn.

I picked up speed and hopped the fence. Huh. Maybe I did do it without realizing. I ran around the back of a bathroom, and waited there in the filth until he rounded the corner and skidded to a stop about a foot in front of me. It was at that point in time that I pulled my gun on him.

Seeing the metal deathtrap pressed to his forehead, he froze dead in his tracks. I couldn't figure out why, but he seemed really familiar… Why couldn't I remember?

I decided to play dumb. "Why are you chasing me?" I demanded, in a whisper.

**Switch PoV**

Harry had been running for a while before he finally saw them. (he couldn't tell if it was a girl or a boy)

"Wait up!" he yelled.

He decided that wasn't a good idea when the witness made a run for it, easily jumping the fence.

"Bloody hell…"

He saw the witness run across the park and duck behind the public restrooms. He quickly followed, albeit a little reluctantly.

As soon as he rounded the corner, he quickly skidded to a stop however, as he had not been expecting the witness to be standing there, waited for him.

He then froze dead in his tracks when he felt—and saw—the cold metal of a gun being pressed to his forehead.

He gulped.

'_Bloody-fucking-hell…' _

"Why are you chasing me?" they demanded in a whisper.

"I-I…" The word fell dead on his lips. What was he supposed to say? Hi, I was just wondering if you were the person who saw me performing magic and possibly the dementors? And if you did, I'd like you to come with me so we can probably do something like erase your memory, steal your memory directly from your brain, or force you to never mention it again—if you don't mind.

Heh. As if.

**Switch PoV**

I couldn't help but giggle a little at how scared I made him. I was honestly planning on playing dumb, but it's gotten boring, so I'll be more strait to the point.

"Who are you?"

**Switch PoV**

The mystery person giggled. He _giggled!_

Okay, you can't blame Harry if he thought this guy was a little insane for giggling as he held a gun to someone's head and questioned them.

"Who are you?" The asked in a whisper.

"I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?"

The person pressed the gun into his head harder.

"I'm asking the questions here." He growled.

**Switch PoV**

"I'm Harry Potter. Who are you?"

Harry Po—oh shit.

_Harry_-_fucking- Potter._

Fuck.

Well, that makes sense now. Man do _I _feel stupid.

Wait.

I am currently questioning Harry Potter at gun-point.

Can't blame if I wanna have a little fun, can you?

"I'm asking the questions here." I growled.

**Switch PoV**

"S-sorry. "

"What was that you did back there? How'd you do that?"

Harry had no choice but to tell the truth. They had already seen him do it—plus, HE HAS A GUN PRESSED TO HIS FOREHEAD, MOTHERFUCKERS!

"It was magic…"

**Switch PoV**

"S-sorry." God, I just made Harry Potter stutter! _Harry Potter!_

"What was that you did back there? How'd you do that?"

"It was magic…" Yeah. I'm happy right now.

"So you're a wizard?"

"Yes…"

"How does someone find out they're a wizard? How can they tell? Can you do some sort of test?"

"Well, I don't know…Wait, I guess you could try waving a wand? If you're a muggle—er, normal—not a wizard, then it shouldn't do anything. If you are then it probably will, I guess…?"

"Is that so…"

Harry panicked when the person started reaching towards his wand in his back pocket. If he moves they shoot! If he doesn't, they take his wand! Why do they even want his wand? Why wo—oh. What he just told them—they want to figure out if they're a wizard or not.

'_Damn it…'_

The person took his wand, and waved it at a water fountain. He was shocked when it exploded. So was the witness.

**Switch PoV**

As the British say, bloody hell! I just blew up a water fountain with Harry-fucking-Potter's wand! Hell, yeah! I'm a fucking god damn wizard! Yeah!

Wait, what the fuck is that?

**Switch PoV**

Harry looked back to the figure holding a gun to his head and saw them looking at something—and it was neither him nor the fountain.

"Fuck…" they whispered, and Harry was quick to snap his head in the direction they were looking. "A _fucking _owl!"

Harry blinked. Once, twice, thrice, three times. His owl was flying toward him. It flew past him quickly, dropping a letter by his and the mystery person's feet, before flying away again. He looked to the person, who nodded, and then Harry crouched down low and picked up the letter, slowly opening it and pulling out the letter inside, his heart pounding somewhere in the region of his Adam's apple.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle._

_The severity of this breach of the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery has resulted in your expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand._

_As you have already received an official warning for a previous offence under Section 13 of the International Confederation of Warlocks' Statute of Secrecy, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twelfth of August._

_Hoping you are well,_

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper Use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic_

Harry read the letter through twice. He was only vaguely aware of the person running away. Inside his head, all was icy and numb. One fact had penetrated his consciousness like a paralysing dart. He was expelled from Hogwarts. It was all over. He was never going back.

Harry's temporarily stupefied brain seemed to reawaken. Ministry representatives will be calling at your place of residence shortly to destroy your wand. There was only one thing for it. He would have to run-now. Where he was going to go, Harry didn't know but he was certain of one thing: at Hogwarts or outside it, he needed his wand. In an almost dreamlike state, he pulled his wand out—wait.

Where's his wand?!

Suddenly it came back to him. That person had it.

"Bloody hell…"

He was about to chase after them when her heard a resounding crack. Looking towards the noise he saw a dazed and ruffled-looking barn owl getting up from where it had landed after it flew into the wall.

The owl stuck out its leg, to which a small roll of parchment was tied, shook its feathers, and took off the moment Harry had taken the letter. Hands shaking, Harry unfurled the second message, which was written very hastily and blotchily in black ink.

Harry—

Dumbledore's just arrived at the Ministry and he's trying to sort it all out. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE. DO NOT DO ANY MORE MAGIC. DO NOT SURRENDER YOUR WAND.

Arthur Weasley

Dumbledore was trying to sort it all out ... what did that mean? how much power did Dumbledore have to override the Ministry of Magic? Was there a chance that he might be allowed back to Hogwarts, then? A small shoot of hope burgeoned in Harry's chest, almost immediately strangled by panic-how was he supposed to refuse to surrender his wand without doing magic? He'd have to duel with the Ministry representatives, and if he did that, he'd be lucky to escape Azkaban, let alone expulsion.

His mind was racing... He could run for it and risk being captured by the Ministry, or stay put and wait for them to find him here. He was much more tempted by the former course, but he knew Mr. Weasley had his best interests at heart ... and, after all, Dumbledore had sorted out much worse than this before...

Never mind that now, he had to get back. He quickly caught up with Mrs. Figgs and later Mundungus Fletcher, before heading home with Dudley.

**Time Skip**

**(You can skip the rest of this chapter, as nothing really important happens, and it's almost the same as in the book.)**

Harry grudgingly sat in the Dursley's kitchen as he was questioned.

'So!' said Uncle Vernon, voice restored to full and considerable volume as he straightened up. 'You put some crackpot spell on my son so he'd hear voices and believe he was-was doomed to misery, or something, did you?'

'How many times do I have to tell you?' said Harry, temper and voice both rising. 'It wasn't me! It was a couple of dementors!'

'A couple of-what's this codswallop?'

'De-men-tors,' said Harry slowly and clearly. 'Two of them.'

'And what the ruddy hell are dementors?'

'They guard the wizard prison, Azkaban,' said Aunt Petunia.

Two seconds of ringing silence followed these words before Aunt Petunia clapped her hand over her mouth as though she had let slip a disgusting swear word. Uncle Vernon was goggling at her. Harry's brain reeled. Mrs. Figg was one thing-butAunt Petunia?

'How d'you know that?' he asked her, astonished.

Aunt Petunia looked quite appalled with herself. She glanced at Uncle Vernon in fearful apology, then lowered her hand slightly to reveal her horsy teeth.

'I heard-that awful boy-telling her about them-years ago,' she said jerkily.

'If you mean my mum and dad, why don't you use their names?' said Harry loudly but Aunt Petunia ignored him. She seemed horribly flustered.

Harry was stunned. Except for one outburst years ago, in the course of which Aunt Petunia had screamed that Harry's mother had been a freak, he had never heard her mention her sister. He was astounded that she had remembered this scrap of information about the magical world for so long, when she usually put all her energies into pretending it didn't exist.

Uncle Vernon opened his mouth, closed it again, opened it once more, shut it, then, apparently struggling to remember how to talk, opened it for a third time and croaked, 'So-so-they-er-they-er-they actually exist, do they-er- Dementy-whatsits?'

Aunt Petunia nodded.

Uncle Vernon looked from Aunt Petunia to Dudley to Harry as if hoping somebody was going to shout 'April Fool!' When nobody did, he opened his mouth yet again, but was spared the struggle to find more words by the arrival of the third owl of the evening. It zoomed through the still-open window like a feathery cannon-ball and landed with a clatter on the kitchen table, causing all three of the Dursleys to jump with fright. Harry tore a second official-looking envelope from the owl's beak and ripped it open as the owl swooped back out into the night.

'Enough-effing-owls...' muttered Uncle Vernon distractedly, stomping over to the window and slamming it shut again.

Dear Mr. Potter,

Further to our letter of approximately twenty-two minutes ago, the Ministry of Magic has revised its decision to destroy your wand forthwith. You may retain your wand until your disciplinary hearing on the twelfth of August, at which time an official decision will be taken.

Following discussions with the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Ministry has agreed that the question of your expulsion will also be decided at that time. You should therefore consider yourself suspended from school pending further enquiries.

With best wishes,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper Use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Harry read this letter through three times in quick succession. The miserable knot in his chest loosened slightly with the relief of knowing he was not yet definitely expelled, though his fears were by no means banished. Everything seemed to hang on this hearing on the twelfth of August.

'Well?' said Uncle Vernon, recalling Harry to his surroundings. 'What now? Have they sentenced you to anything? Do your lot have the death penalty?' he added as a hopeful afterthought.

'I've got to go to a hearing,' said Harry.

'And they'll sentence you there?'

'I suppose so.'

'I won't give up hope, then,' said Uncle Vernon nastily.

'Well, if that's all,' said Harry, getting to his feet. He was desperate to be alone, to think, perhaps to send a letter to Ron, Hermione or Sirius.

'NO, IT RUDDY WELL IS NOT ALL!' bellowed Uncle Vernon. 'SIT BACK DOWN!'

'What now?' said Harry impatiently.

'DUDLEY!' roared Uncle Vernon. 'I want to know exactly what happened to my son!'

'FINE!' yelled Harry, and in his temper, red and gold sparks shot out of the end of his wand, still clutched in his hand. All three Dursleys flinched, looking terrified.

'Dudley and I were in the alleyway between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk,' said Harry, speaking fast, fighting to control his temper. 'Dudley thought he'd be smart with me, I pulled out my wand but didn't use it. Then two dementors turned up-'

'But what ARE Dementoids?' asked Uncle Vernon furiously. 'What do they DO?'

'I told you-they suck all the happiness out of you,' said Harry, 'and if they get the chance, they kiss you-'

'Kiss you?' said Uncle Vernon, his eyes popping slightly. 'Kiss you?'

'It's what they call it when they suck the soul out of your mouth.'

Aunt Petunia uttered a soft scream.

'His soul? They didn't take-he's still got his-'

She seized Dudley by the shoulders and shook him, as though testing to see whether she could hear his soul rattling around inside him.

'Of course they didn't get his soul, you'd know if they had,' said Harry, exasperated.

'Fought 'em off, did you, son?' said Uncle Vernon loudly, with the appearance of a man struggling to bring the conversation back on to a plane he understood. 'Gave 'em the old one-two, did you?'

'You can't give a Dementor the old one-two,' said Harry through clenched teeth.

'Why's he all right, then?' blustered Uncle Vernon. 'Why isn't he all empty, then?'

'Because I used the Patronus-'

WHOOSH.

With a clattering, a whirring of wings and a soft fall of dust, a fourth owl came shooting out of the kitchen fireplace.

'FOR GOD'S SAKE!' roared Uncle Vernon, pulling great clumps of hair out of his moustache, something he hadn't been driven to do in a long time. 'I WILL NOT HAVE OWLS HERE, I WILL NOT TOLERATE THIS, I TELL YOU!'

But Harry was already pulling a roll of parchment from the owl's leg. He was so convinced that this letter had to be from Dumbledore, explaining everything-the dementors, Mrs. Figg, what the Ministry was up to, how he, Dumbledore, intended to sort everything out-that for the first time in his life he was disappointed to see Sirius's handwriting. Ignoring Uncle Vernons ongoing rant about owls, and narrowing his eyes against a second cloud of dust as the most recent owl took off back up the chimney, Harry read Sirius's message.

Arthur has just told us what's happened. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do.

Harry found this such an inadequate response to everything that had happened tonight that he turned the piece of parchment over, looking for the rest of the letter, but there was nothing else.

And now his temper was rising again. Wasn't anybody going to say 'well done' for fighting off two dementors single-handed? Both Mr. Weasley and Sirius were acting as though he'd misbehaved, and were saving their tellings-off until they could ascertain how much damage had been done.

'-a peck, I mean, pack of owls shooting in and out of my house. I won't have it, boy, I won't-'

'I can't stop the owls coming,' Harry snapped, crushing Sirius's letter in his fist.

'I want the truth about what happened tonight!' barked Uncle Vernon. 'If it was demenders who hurt Dudley, how come you've been expelled? You did you-know-what, you've admitted, it!'

Harry took a deep, steadying breath. His head was beginning to ache again. He wanted more than anything to get out of the kitchen, and away from the Dursleys.

'I did the Patronus Charm to get rid of the dementors,' he said, forcing himself to remain calm. 'It's the only thing that works against them.'

'But what were Dementoids doing in Little Whinging?' said Uncle Vernon in an outraged tone.

'Couldn't tell you,' said Harry wearily. 'No idea.'

His head was pounding in the glare of the strip-lighting now. His anger was ebbing away. He felt drained, exhausted. The Dursleys were all staring at him.

'It's you,' said Uncle Vernon forcefully. 'It's got something to do with you, boy, I know it. Why else would they turn up here? Why else would they be down that alleyway? You've got to be the only-the only-' Evidently, he couldn't bring himself to say the word 'wizard'. The only you-know-what for miles.'

'I don't know why they were here.'

But at Uncle Vernon's words, Harry's exhausted brain had ground back into action. Why had the dementors come to Little Whinging? How could it be coincidence that they had arrived in the alleyway where Harry was? Had they been sent? Had the Ministry of Magic lost control of the dementors? Had they deserted Azkaban and joined Voldemort, as Dumbledore had predicted they would?

'These demembers guard some weirdo prison?' asked Uncle Vernon, lumbering along in the wake of Harry's train of thought.

'Yes,' said Harry.

If only his head would stop hurting, if only he could just leave the kitchen and get to his dark bedroom and think...

'Oho! They were coming to arrest you!' said Uncle Vernon, with the triumphant air of a man reaching an unassailable conclusion. 'That's it, isn't it, boy? You're on the run from the law!'

'Of course I'm not,' said Harry, shaking his head as though to scare off a fly, his mind racing now.

'Then why-?'

'He must have sent them,' said Harry quietly, more to himself than to Uncle Vernon.

'What's that? Who must have sent them?'

'Lord Voldemort,' said Harry.

He registered dimly how strange it was that the Dursleys, who flinched, winced and squawked if they heard words like 'wizard', 'magic' or 'wand', could hear the name of the most evil wizard of all time without the slightest tremor.

'Lord-hang on,' said Uncle Vernon, his face screwed up, a look of dawning comprehension coming into his piggy eyes. 'I've heard that name ... that was the one who...'

'Murdered my parents, yes,' Harry said dully.

'But he's gone,' said Uncle Vernon impatiently, without the slightest sign that the murder of Harry's parents might be a painful topic. 'That giant bloke said so. He's gone.'

'He's back,' said Harry heavily.

It felt very strange to be standing here in Aunt Petunia's surgically clean kitchen, beside the top-of-the-range fridge and the wide-screen television, talking calmly of Lord Voldemort to Uncle Vernon. The arrival of the dementors in Little Whinging seemed to have breached the great, invisible wall that divided the relentlessly non-magical world of Privet Drive and the world beyond. Harry's two lives had somehow become fused and everything had been turned upside-down; the Dursleys were asking for details about the magical world, and Mrs. Figg knew Albus Dumbledore; dementors were soaring around Little Whinging, and he might never return to Hogwarts. Harry's head throbbed more painfully.

'Back?' whispered Aunt Petunia.

She was looking at Harry as she had never looked at him before. And all of a sudden, for the very first time in his life, Harry fully appreciated that Aunt Petunia was his mother's sister. He could not have said why this hit him so very powerfully at this moment. All he knew was that he was not the only person in the room who had an inkling of what Lord Voldemort being back might mean. Aunt Petunia had never in her life looked at him like that before. Her large, pale eyes (so unlike her sisters) were not narrowed in dislike or anger, they were wide and fearful. The furious pretence that Aunt Petunia had maintained all Harry's life-that there was no magic and no world other than the world she inhabited with Uncle Vernon-seemed to have fallen away.

'Yes,' Harry said, talking directly to Aunt Petunia now. He came back a month ago. I saw him.'

Her hands found Dudley's massive leather-clad shoulders and clutched them.

'Hang on,' said Uncle Vernon, looking from his wife to Harry and back again, apparently dazed and confused by the unprecedented understanding that seemed to have sprung up between them. 'Hang on. This Lord Voldything's back, you say.'

'Yes.'

'The one who murdered your parents.'

'Yes.'

'And now he's sending dismembers after you?'

'Looks like it,' said Harry.

'I see,' said Uncle Vernon, looking from his white-faced wife to Harry and hitching up his trousers. He seemed to be swelling, his great purple face stretching before Harry's eyes. 'Well, that settles it,' he said, his shirt front straining as he inflated himself, 'you can get out of this house, boy!'

'What?' said Harry.

'You heard me-OUT!' Uncle Vernon bellowed, and even Aunt Petunia and Dudley jumped. 'OUT! OUT! I should've done this years ago! Owls treating the place like a rest home, puddings exploding, half the lounge destroyed, Dudley's tail, Marge bobbing around on the ceiling and that flying Ford Anglia-OUT! OUT! You've had it! You're history! You're not staying here if some loony's after you, you're not endangering my wife and son, you're not bringing trouble down on us, if you're going the same way as your useless parents, I've had it! OUT!'

Harry stood rooted to the spot. The letters from the Ministry, Mr. Weasley and Sirius were all crushed in his left hand. Don't leave the house again, whatever you do. DO NOT LEAVE YOUR AUNT AND UNCLE'S HOUSE.

'You heard me!' said Uncle Vernon, bending forwards now, his massive purple face coming so close to Harry's, he actually felt flecks of spit hit his face. 'Get going! You were all keen to leave half an hour ago! I'm right behind you! Get out and never darken our doorstep again! Why we ever kept you in the first place, I don't know, Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage. We were too damn soft for our own good, thought we could squash it out of you, thought we could turn you normal, but you've been rotten from the beginning and I've had enough-OWLS!'

The fifth owl zoomed down the chimney so fast it actually hit the floor before zooming into the air again with a loud screech. Harry raised his hand to seize the letter, which was in a scarlet envelope, but it soared straight over his head, flying directly at Aunt Petunia, who let out a scream and ducked, her arms over her face. The owl dropped the red envelope on her head, turned, and flew straight back up the chimney.

Harry darted forwards to pick up the letter, but Aunt Petunia beat him to it.

'You can open it if you like,' said Harry, 'but I'll hear what it says anyway. That's a Howler.'

'Let go of it, Petunia!' roared Uncle Vernon. 'Don't touch it, it could be dangerous!'

'It's addressed to me,' said Aunt Petunia in a shaking voice. 'It's addressed to me, Vernon, look! Mrs. Petunia Dursley, The Kitchen, Number Four, Privet Drive-'

She caught her breath, horrified. The red envelope had begun to smoke.

'Open it!' Harry urged her. 'Get it over with! It'll happen anyway.'

'No.'

Aunt Petunia's hand was trembling. She looked wildly around the kitchen as though looking for an escape route, but too late-the envelope burst into flames. Aunt Petunia screamed and dropped it.

An awful voice filled the kitchen, echoing in the confined space, issuing from the burning letter on the table.

'REMEMBER MY LAST, PETUNIA.'

Aunt Petunia looked as though she might faint. She sank into the chair beside Dudley, her face in her hands. The remains of the envelope smouldered into ash in the silence.

'What is this?' Uncle Vernon said hoarsely. 'What-I don't-Petunia?'

Aunt Petunia said nothing. Dudley was staring stupidly at his mother, his mouth hanging open. The silence spiralled horribly. Harry was watching his aunt, utterly bewildered, his head throbbing fit to burst.

'Petunia, dear?' said Uncle Vernon timidly. 'P-Petunia?'

She raised her head. She was still trembling. She swallowed.

'The boy-the boy will have to stay, Vernon,' she said weakly.

'W-what?'

'He stays,' she said. She was not looking at Harry. She got to her feet again.

'He ... but Petunia...'

'If we throw him out, the neighbours will talk,' she said. She was rapidly regaining her usual brisk, snappish manner, though she was still very pale. 'They'll ask awkward questions, they'll want to know where he's gone. We'll have to keep him.'

Uncle Vernon was deflating like an old tyre.

'But Petunia, dear—"

Aunt Petunia ignored him. She turned to Harry.

'You're to stay in your room,' she said. 'You're not to leave the house. Now get to bed.'

Harry didn't move.

'Who was that Howler from?'

'Don't ask questions,' Aunt Petunia snapped.

'Are you in touch with wizards?'

'I told you to get to bed!'

'What did it mean? Remember the last what?'

'Go to bed!'

'How come-?'

'YOU HEARD YOUR AUNT, NOW GO UP TO BED!'


	3. Chatroom

_CenturyViscount is online…_

_MillenniumGirl is online…_

_Phuucky_Yin is online…_

_Buutchy_Yang is online…_

_Kurokami is online…_

_Reinbow_roll is online..._

__Shira_ is online…_

CenturyViscount: Hey guys! What's up?

Reinbow_roll: The sky.

Phuucky_Yin: The ceiling.

MillenniumGirl: Haha

_Shira_: gossip time! any1 gots any gossip?

CenturyViscount: Yup. MAJORLY.

_Shira_: oooooh really tell us!

MillenniumGirl: Yeah yeah yeah!

Phuucky_Yin: Don't leave us hanging!

Buutchy_Yang: What is it?!

Reinbow_roll: Tell me!

Kurokami: Spill. NOW.

CenturyViscount: Okay, you guys wont fucking believe this. You're gunna think im crazy

MilleniumGirl: No, just tell us!

_Shira_: Newwwww!

Century Viscount: okay okay! Yesterday… I met…

_Shira_: go on!

Reinbow_roll: Tell us!

Century Viscount: Harry fucking potter.

Buutching_Yang: you lie

Kurokami: Lying is for bad people.

_Shira_: GOSSIP OVERLOAD…

CenturyViscount: no no im serious! It was just like in the fifth book!

Reinbow_roll: define 'like'

CenturyViscount: I went on a walk at like midnight and somehow I ended up in some park and there was harry on the swing but I didn't realize and then duds and his gang showed up and harry followed them and I followed harry thinking he was out of his mind trying to kill himself and from that point on everything was like in the book up until wen mrs friggs showed up and I made a run for! harry showed up at the park wen I got there and chased me and I hid behind a bathroom and wen he caught up with me I held a fucking gun to his head why I had that I don even kno and then there I go questioning him and then he tell me hes harry fucking potter and im like omg why didn't I notice and then I test his wand to see if im a wizard AND I BLOW UP A FUCKING WATER FOUNTAIN like holy shit! then blah blah an owl comes with a letter and I took that chance to run away AND O MY GOD I STOLE HARRY FUCKING POTTERS WAND AND OMG IM A FUCKING WIZARD FUCK YEEEEAAAAAAAAAH!

Phuucky_Yin: er… woww

Buutchy_Yang: ahhh! yin we gotta go—NOW!

Phuucky_Yin: oh shit! later guys

_Shira_: bi

Reinbow_roll: Bye!

CenturyViscount: later

Kurokami: Goodbye.

_Phuucky_Yin is offline…_

_Buutchy_Yang is offline…_

Kurokami: Sorry, guys, but I gotta go, too.

Reinbow_roll: miss ya

_Shira_: goodbye luv

CenturyViscount: later

_Kurokami is offline…_

CenturyViscount: …

Reinbow_roll: mil?

_Shira_: nooooooos! me pals DEADS!

CenturyViscount: milly?

MillenniumGirl: Oh srry I was busy im really srry buts I gtg now!

CenturyViscount: its ok darling hav fun

Reinbow_roll: c ya

_Shira_: and off i GOOOOOOO

_Kurokami is offline…_

__Shira_ is offline…_

Reinbow_roll: soo…

CenturyViscount: so

_PrinceDragon471 is online…_

CenturyViscount: oooh! newbie!

Reinbow_roll: yay!

PrinceDragon471: hi

CenturyViscount: HI!

Reinbow_roll: sup

CenturyViscount: dawww ur so cut! 3

PrinceDragon471: WHAT?

Reinbow_roll: lol

PrinceDragon471: You've never even seen me before!

CenturyViscount: how do u kno that?

PrinceDragon471: Because I don't know any muggles!

CenturyViscount: muggles?

PrinceDragon471: shit…

Reinbow_roll: does that make you a wizard? it does, doesn't it?

PrinceDragon471: How did you know that?!

CenturyViscount: brains….

PrinceDragon471: Are you a wizard?

Reinbow_roll: probably not

CenturyViscount: jus discovered my 'wizardly blood' last nite. awsum aint it?

PrinceDragon471: …

Reinbow_roll: lates

CenturyViscount: OOOH BYE!

_Reinbow_roll is offline…_

_CenturyViscount is offline…_

PrinceDragon471: …

PrinceDragon471: What do I do now?

PrinceDragon471: I guess… I'll just… log out… now?

PrinceDragon471: Er… Bye?

_PrinceDragon471 is offline…_

_**I'll update faster of you can guess who PrinceDragon471 is~!**_


	4. Hogwarts Acceptance Letter

I yawned happily as I finally reached my house. Looking down at my phone in my hands I read the last messages…

_PrinceDragon471: Are you a wizard?_

_Reinbow_roll: probably not_

_CenturyViscount: jus discovered my 'wizardly blood' last nite. awsum aint it?_

_PrinceDragon471: …_

_Reinbow_roll: lates_

I quickly wrote a reply before signing off.

_CenturyViscount: OOOH BYE!_

_Reinbow_roll is offline…_

_CenturyViscount is offline…_

After that whole mess in the park, I was finally home… (don't even ask)

I put my phone in my right pocket by my knee, exchanging it for my keys, which I used to unlock the door before returning it to where it was before.

Entering the house, I was enveloped in the sweet, sweet, smell of…

Party cake ice cream.

Oh, yes, party cake ice cream. I love my friends _so _much more now. Walking into my kitchen I was met with the sight of several of my friends sitting on the floor eating ice cream. There was Thiago, Davi, and Jero—wait, when did Jero get here? I definitely don't remember him sleeping over… Oh well. The more the merrier, I guess.

"Ice cream—where is it?"

"Freezer—where were you?" asked Thiggy.

"Got lost, met Harry Potter, got lost again…"

Okay, that drew some attention.

The next half hour was spent with me explaining everything that happened.

"So where is it?" asked Davi.

"Where's what?" I asked.

"The wand."

"Oh, yeah! You still have his wand don't you?" said Thiggy.

"You didn't throw it away or leave it there?" said JeJe.

"Er… oops?"

"Let's test it!" said Thiggy.

"Alright!" I said.

"Woo, let's go!" said Davi.

"Alright, but then I gotta go home." Said Jero.

"Aww…" I whined, "spoilsport."

"Yeah, yeah."

We all went outside and walked about a block from my house, before lining up. One by one, they all tried the wand. Jero was the only muggle.

"YES. Finally, I'm the normal one. Later guys."

"Bye-bye, Je-Je!" I said.

We said our farewells and all set off back towards my house. We spent the next hour eating ice cream and watching Harry Potter DVDs, before we heard a crash from the kitchen. Rushing in, we were shocked to see, none other than an owl pecking at my window. I quickly let him in, and he seemed glad to drop three letters down in front of us, and then swoop our windows.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear [Student Name Here],

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic

by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory

by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration

by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions

by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

Only one thought was running through my mind.

'_Oh, shit.'_


	5. Hogwarts Escort

Thiggy, Davi, and I waited patiently for someone from Hogwarts to arrive. Because we had only just discovered we were wizards, it was decided we needed an escort to help us get to the train station, and to get what we need for the school year. We were also going to be staying somewhere—apparently—for a while, so we could work on our wizard/witch studies in attempt to catch up to the rest of our year. Eventually after we'd all fallen asleep, the doorbell rang, waking us up.

"I'll get it!" I called out, running for the door. Thiggy and Davi followed closely behind, calling for me to wait up. I swung the door open only to find…

The pizza guy.

"Who ordered pizza?" I growled out, a tick mark appearing on my forehead as I turned toward two of my best friends.

"What brand is it?" I asked, after receiving no response.

"Domino's…" mumbled Thiggy.

"…What flavor?"

"Plain and meatball."

"You're forgiven. Price?"

The man glanced at the receipt taped to the box, before answering. I turned toward my friends as we split the amount, putting our money together and handing it to Pizza Guy. He thanked us and handed me my box of pizza—err—I mean, _our _box of pizza. Hehe, hehe… -_-'

I grinned a face-splitting-grin and happily took the pizza from him, pecking him on the cheek before tucking a tip in his jacket pocket and slamming the door in his face.

"Perv," joked Thiggy.

"I know, thank you," I smiled, taking the pizza into the kitchen.

The layout of my house is like this: The first floor consists of the kitchen, the front door, the living room, dining room, two bathrooms, and my parents' room. Go up to the second floor and you'll find me and my sisters' rooms, along with the guest rooms, and two more bathrooms, plus a 'playroom'. Going down into the basement you'll find the laundry room, and the entertainment center—designed originally by my dad, and somewhat remodeled by yours truly—we call it, 'The Cave'.

｡◕‿◕｡**Line**｡◕‿◕｡

Snape apparated in front of a house just as the door was slammed in some muggle's face. He looked down at the paper in his hand stating the address, confirming this was the right house, where he would find the three new Hogwarts students he had been assigned to escort. Apparently Dumbledore had decided—for whatever reason—to bring them to the Order to be privately thought. Apparently he thought there was something special about them. Hmpth. They're probably just some snotty first years all hyped up about discovering they're wizards. Walking up to the door, he tapped the frozen muggle on the shoulder, watching slightly amusing as he jumped and spun around, his face still cherry-red, and the only thing he could manage was "Huh?"

"Or you going to stand there all day?" He drawled. The strangers eyes widened, almost in excitement, confusing the poor potions professor.

"Shit, awesome costume, man!" Pizza Guy said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, confusing the professor even more. "Ah, right!" he said, "Sorry, prof, I'll get out of your way. Gotta get back to work, anyway. Later!" Pizza Guy ran down the steps after saying that, and hopped into his car, starting the engine and driving away.

'_How did he?—_muggles_…'_

Snape walked up to the door, his cloak swishing behind him, and knocked three times heavily on the wooden door.

｡◕‿◕｡**Line**｡◕‿◕｡

The three girls had just began eating their pizza, when they heard someone knocking on the door. One, two, three times. They slowly looked towards each other, and all at once they got up and raced toward the front door, grabbing the door knob at the same time. Then, in sync, they turned the knob and pulled the door open, only to find themselves looking into the eyes of the one, the only, _Professor Severus Snape._

｡◕‿◕｡**Line**｡◕‿◕｡

The professor looked down slightly, to find three pretty young girls—all around Potter's age, no doubt—looking up at him with something akin to awe in their eyes. Weren't they supposed to have just discovered their powers? Suppose that explains why they had to be privately taught… But weren't they staring at him a little too long? He was used to first years staring at him, but not like this. They weren't looking at him in fear…he couldn't explain it. They almost seemed…happy. Excited. Kind of like that muggle from before.

He saw one of them mutter, 'Think he's the real thing?' and another slowly nod her head. Deciding to ignore their strange behavior for now, he introduced himself.

"My name is Severus Snape. You shall refer to me as Professor Snape, or Sir. Is this understood?"

The three girls hastily nodded their heads, the one in the front actually reciting 'Yes, Sir!'

Satisfied, he continued. "Good. I shall be your escort in guiding you to the train, and taking you shopping for the supplies you'll need for school. Please pack anything you wish to take with you, and then we'll go."

They nodded, and two out of three ran off to pack. The third, however, stayed. She was the shortest of the three, and had dark hair and was wearing dark blue jeans, a gray long sleeve tee, a mid-length trench coat colored black, and black combat books with a Burberry cashmere scarf and black fedora. She had three piercings in each ear and had a necklace with an 'L' in old English font.

"Yes…?" He drawled.

"Are you just going to stand there?" she asked, tilting her head to one side.

"What do you mean?"

"Well…" she started, "Aren't you going to come in?"

"No."

She pouted slightly. Snape got a little suspicious when she smirked. She quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him inside, him stumbling after her.

_**TBC…**_


End file.
